


Baby Got Back

by TriaKane



Series: Designated Hitter [13]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, I hate giving away all the good stuff in tags, Immortal OFC or Mary Sue, It's a distinctive thing...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:30:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6000969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriaKane/pseuds/TriaKane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, Eliot wondered if she was doing it on purpose, but she couldn’t be. Could she?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Got Back

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Eliot and Lyn, a timeline for the Designated Hitter series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814805) by [TriaKane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriaKane/pseuds/TriaKane). 



> Set the day after [The Rescue Job](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5967636). 
> 
> Betaed by Tarryn, but I fiddled... it's what I do... I fiddle... it's a distinctive... well, you get my drift.

At first, Eliot wondered if she was doing it on purpose, but she couldn’t be. Could she?

Stretched out on the couch, Eliot was trying to read—an old Louis L’Amour he’d read a dozen times, but he kept getting distracted. Peeking around the book, he watched Lyn.

She had just come upstairs from the building’s gym, and was still dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra while she poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a muffin. She slid onto a barstool and something about the way she did it, focused Eliot’s attention on her ass. 

There was nothing special about the yoga pants, they were heather gray with a black seam down the leg, but something... something drew his eye. Moving the book, Eliot blocked the view and went back to reading... until he heard her phone chime.

Looking away from the book, he watched her slide off the stool and grab her phone off the table by the front door. He listened for a minute, picking up that she was talking to Carrie at her office in Chicago, then tuned it out, but he couldn’t stop watching. 

When Lyn stood at the counter with her weight on her right leg, her hip angled his direction, her ass somehow became even more appealing. Then she bent over to untie her sneakers.

Eliot had to shift position on the couch as his cock started to take notice.

Standing at the counter, Lyn flexed her feet as Eliot watched, the play of muscles as her calves contracted, mesmerizing him. 

The ringing of the doorbell shattered his focus, and he moved to get up but, but Lyn gestured for him to stay put. She ended her call and walked over to the door, giving him a puzzled look. She was mostly hidden from view when she opened the door, except for a teasing glimpse of her ass every few seconds. Eliot recognized the voice of one of the building’s concierge and waited.

Carrying the delivery in, Lyn set the box on the kitchen counter. She slit it open and pulled out a shoe box.

Eliot set aside his book then, his total focus now on her.

Lyn pulled out the shoes—oh dear god, they were red strappy heels. She sat on the edge of the stool and eased them on, fastening the straps. When she stood up, he sat up. She took a few steps. 

Looking over her shoulder at him, Lyn asked, “What do you think?”

He didn’t think, wasn’t thinking, he was moving. 

He grabbed her around the waist and pushed her against the kitchen counter, pushing her down with his body weight, covering every part of her. He bit down on her bare shoulder—the shoulder that had taken the bullet the day before, she moaned and wiggled under him. His denim covered erection pushed against her, and she pushed back.

Leaning back, Eliot kept a hand on her back, holding her down, and used his other hand to push down her yoga pants. She tried to help, to spread her legs, anything, but she was hampered by the yoga pants binding her knees together.

“El,” she growled in frustration. 

“Want yer ass,” he growled back.

She pushed back against him, his denim covered erection hard against her ass.

“Yes.”

Releasing her, Eliot knew their mutual desire would keep her in place. He gripped the closure of his jeans and yanked them open, the buttons easily sliding from the well-worn holes. Knowing he needed something, Eliot opened the nearest cabinet and pulled out a bottle of olive oil. He poured a little in his hand, just enough to ease the way and not rip the skin off his cock.

He slicked himself up, then reached between her cheeks, feeling for the small opening. Sliding a finger in, Lyn pushed back.

“Do it!”

Knowing she wanted it and could take it, Eliot gripped her hips, pulled her back and onto his hard cock. Her ass clenched tight around him.

“Fuck!” he snarled between gritted teeth.

Lyn moved, pulling away and then pushing back, needing more. Eliot pushed her back against the counter and began to thrust; it was hard, fast, toe-curling, teeth-clenching fucking. 

Clutching the counter, Lyn reveled in the feel of Eliot pounding into her, but she wanted more. Reaching between her legs, she started rubbing her clit determinedly. She felt Eliot’s fingers join hers and she whined with need. There was no way they could last long.

She felt herself start to come, and pushed back hard against Eliot. He answered with rougher, faster, harder thrusts. And they were both coming, grunting in completion.

Resting on the counter, Lyn felt Eliot slide from her. She heard the water run in the sink and then felt him clean her backside before pulling her yoga pants up. Turning around, she watched him clean the olive oil from his cock and close his button-fly.

With a smirk Lyn sashayed away, leaving Eliot still wondering if she had done it on purpose.

**Author's Note:**

> The alternate title choice was All About That Bass. :)


End file.
